Friday in Cove City a little after 4pm - hot enough to fry an egg on the sidewalk, though with the occasional trace of a sea breeze. Downtown, a little strip of city including a few trendy restaurants, a shopping mall tower, and a sizable Marriott. Squint at the haze rising off the pavement and you might see … no, false alarm. Moving on.

Murderously hot. Jon's dealt with worse, but that doesn't mean it's at all pleasant to deal with. Jon's sitting on a bench near an entrance to the mall, in a corner that provides a bit of shade. She's sipping a cola as she considers what to do with the evening. Out in public like this, she's currently in human form.

Quite, shamefully, murderously hot. How do they manage? Rain? She could handle rain. A good English rain washes away all the dreariness, or at least covers it up in a whole different kind of dreariness. Antigone emerges from a bookstore, having found a find that seems to make it all worth her effort. She's dressed in jeans and a corset top, the only concesion to the weather her jacket which stays at home. A few short steps and she's at the side of Jon's bench. "How do you manage this oppressive heat?" she asks.

And why, Jack Bowen thinks, did I leave the nice comfort of my dorm room and campus to come out in this heat? Oh, right, wanted to shop for something. Maybe pick up something nice for some people he knows. But first, a quick stop. He's at the nearest hot dog stand by the Mall, fedora shielding his eyes from the sun, buying a dog and something oh god please be cold to drink.

In front of the hotel, spidery tendrils of ice race up the faade of a street-facing room, blossoming across the glass and curtains and spreading across the wall. People hardly have time to notice, a few heads turning, when the wall explodes in a shower of iced fragments.
A dark-haired man dives out of the opening, a heedless jump that he manages to turn into a drop and roll. He lands in a crouch, panting for breath, the street icing up under his hand. He's in plain clothes, or rather part of a fairly nice suit, sans jacket - definitely not a costume.
"Hit the broad side of a barn much?" a rich alto voice inquires acidly from inside the hotel room. "I practically laid him out on a platter for you!"
"You were supposed to keep him distracted," comes an answering growl.
The pair in the now-glaciated hotel room are a bob-haired brunette and a tall, athletic man with mismatched eyes - one grey, one green. She whirls, striding to the remnants of the window.
"I guess we have a chase now," she says.

"First thing is to try to stay out of it as best you can," Jon answers Antigone with her slight drawl. "A/C's good for that. Second thing, drink lotsa fluids. Third thing, if you gotta be out in it, do as little as you gotta." Jon then looks up at the sound of shattering glass and ice, sipping her cola as she watches it. She watches the man diving out of it, sipping her cola still. She doesn't hear the conversation from inside the room, not with only normal human ears, but she sips her cola. It's empty now, so she leans over to drop it in a trash can, and then stands up. And then, "What the -hell- was that?" she exclaims. "Dude? You okay?" she calls out towards the man who leapt.

"I have been warned against becoming a shut in," Antigone tells Jon. "Being 'that girl'." The last two word she says in an affected American accent, although not a particularly good one. The ice-wall bursts open hard, drawing Antigone's immediate attention. "Jon," she says in a near-whisper. "I believe these are two of the individuals who kidnapped some of our fellow students." Antigone tenses, readying for a fight. Curses - her without her sword.

The sudden crashing and rumbling takes Jack's attention away from the hot dog cart, where his food and ah yes it is cold drink awaits. A person tumbles out, and his eyes widen a touch under the brim of his hat. "Ah," he says, handing the guy manning the cart a ten spot. "Keep th' change, and hold it for me, can you?" He doesn't really wait for an answer before he's jogging over towards where the dark-haired man has come up. "Glacier, right?" he asks, then looks up. "Ah, damn," he says. "Hunter an that replacement Kerry. I got a friend who gabbed at me about those two." He lifts his hands to a pugilist's stance, fists balled.

The people gawking at the shattered wall pull back now, sensing tension in the air even if they have no idea what is going on.
The ice controller straightens, grimacing. "About not to be, I suspect," he says, the syllables rolling in a distinct Londoner's accent. "You might want to back off, miss." His head jerks back in surprise as Jack addresses him as Glacier. "That'd be me. Better outted than out permanently, I guess." He frowns, even as a pale blue nimbus of frost spreads across his skin. "This is going to get rough -"
The man with the mismatched eyes - Hunter, as Jack has identified him - swings out of the room and charges the plainsclothes Glacier. The ice controller weaves, the blow is glancing … but tendrils of grave-grey wrap around Glacier and sink in. A half second later, the ice film shatters. Glacier lifts a hand and … nothing happens. His eyes widen, and he takes a startled step back.
"Kerry, your shot," Hunter barks over his shoulder.
"Hold your horses, I'm in heels," the brunette replies.

Apparently, Kerry is just that agile in heels, however: the woman sweeps up a hand, tendrils of darkness streaming from each finger and slamming into the temporarily de-powered Glacier. The shadows slice his skin, pound into his flesh; the man drops, gasping. The ends of ribs jut out through skin. If there were any doubt the two attackers were shooting to kill, it's just been erased.
"See, if you'd just hit him like that to start, we wouldn't be doing this out in public," she says.
Hunter snorts. "Thought you liked the cameras."
She mimes striking a pose. "Are there cameras? Where?"

"Well, hell. I really get sick of this, you know?" Jon says to Antigone. Her form ripples and reshapes into her tigress form, growing taller, bit more muscular, bit bigger. "'scuse me," she says before running out towards Jack and Glacier. "Sorry, dude," she says, scooping Glacier up as gently as she can while still doing so -quickly-. Holding him close against herself, she then takes off at a full on sprint, leaping over a couple cars as she crosses a street. She sets Glacier down in a doorway, hopefully out of easy view, and then turns to rejoin the others. "Get 'em, Jackhammer," she calls out as she approaches.

Hunter swears as Jonathan swoops in - and is caught half frowning, half staring. "Is that a catgirl?" he demands.
"Redundant. All women are catty, Hunter." Kerry half-turns; daylight moves through her body, disrupting the pattern of shadow around her.
"I bow to the expert." His voice is sardonic, then more urgently, "Did you see where exactly she went?"
"Says the man on the street to the woman in the building," Kerry says drily. "You have a better perspective than I do."
Hunter stabs a hand at her. "I will ask you to repeat that later." He whirls just as suddenly, lunging for Jonathan. "You're about to learn where meddling gets you …" Except maybe not right away, because the blow goes awry.
Glacier manages something like a mumble of thanks to Jonathan, but he's not precisely functional. There might also be a faint comment about this being bloody embarrassing.

Glacier's English. How did she not know that? She'll have to inquire later. As it is, Antigone has to deal with the crisis at hand. "I agree entirely," she says to Jon, in a dry, slightly weary tone. There's a rumble from the ground and tendrils of blue energy burst up through the pavement. In her haste Antigone hasn't gotten the aim quite right. The tendrils are a bit far from Hunter and although a few grasp towards him and get one of his legs, he easily pulls free of it. "Blast," Antigone hisses.

He's about to say something else to Glacier when a blur of kitty-fur rushes past. Jack had no idea Jon could move that fast, but he's not complaining as he steps up to Hunter. He goes in low. "Bout time to dish it out," he says, and connects solidly with the guy. He idly thanks whatever's up there watching. If he had to fight Kelly…he'd never forgive himself. But, the punch, while it does strike home, seems to not have any noticable effect. "And, they can take it," he says. "S'one of those days, innit?"

When Jack connects with Hunter, there's a brief coruscation of dark energy, leaching away at him and leaving him shaken. Hunter snakes his head around, his expression a contemptuous smirk - but there's a sharpness in the eyes that indicates he's well aware of the force behind the punch.
Kerry saunters up to the shattered wall and splays her off-hand against the brick. "Tell you what," she says, "why don't you three just run along? I promise I'll pretend you put up a good fight." Her eyes flick across the scene, snapping back to Jack - who said she had to look for a fair opening? Her hand casts forth piercing, winding tendrils, all of which connect … and none of which do more than possibly ruffle his hair a bit.

"Modeling, actually, not meddling," Jon retorts. "Plastic, not swimsuit," she amends to that as she picks up a nearby manhole cover. Leaning into the attack, she slams it against Hunter, once, and then twice with catlike swiftness before he can recover…not that he actually needs to recover, it seems, the wrought iron disintegrating in Jon's hands, with nothing to show for her effort. "Crap."

"I don't think my brain could take if it was swimsuit," Hunter growls, shaking himself and whirling to confront Jonathan. He seems to hesitate a moment, as if just the idea of hitting a quasi-feline is somewhat unsettling. Then he shrugs and lunges forward. An instant before the blow connects, his hand slides out of phase and goes through Jonathan's arm, rematerializing inside flesh and bone. Hunter wrenches free , drawing blood - painful, but not much more.
"Stop being squeamish and hit her," Kerry calls.
"I'll imagine it's you," Hunter retorts.

Having failed to trap Hunter, Antigone decides to up the ante. Jon's got Glacier safely out of the way - good on him - and has come back trying to beat Hunter with a manhole cover. It's a good attempt, even if it fails. She'd be more outwardly encouraging except she hasn't actually revealed herself as a combattant yet. That's why it's good her telekinetic powers can't be seen as they wrap about Hunter, grab him and slam him to the ground. It's not hard enough to hurt him, but it'll keep him from hurting Jon again. With a bit of good fortune Kerry and Hunter won't see her concentrating on the magic.

There's a moment where Jack finds himself breathing a little hard, clutching an injured hand. That /hurt,/ and while he's not prone to rages or losing his shit over such things, he also knows he's got seniority right now. They got Glacier out of the way, though Jack wasn't thinking much further than that. He backs up and reaches for the first thing he can find with his hand blindly. This happens to be the hot-dog cart he was buying something at. "Sorry, pops," he says, picking it up easily by the handle with one hand. "Gotta take it to go!" And with that, he swings the cart in an overhand hammer movement, pounding into Hunter's noggin, which leaves him reeling.

"Let go of him!" Kerry indulges in an operatic shout that displays just how much range she had as a singer. Her hand at first points directly at Jack, the fingers curling in, darkness gathering … and then she looks further. Her eyes narrow, picking out Antigone in the crowd. "Oh, no, you don't," she murmurs. Her aim is dead on, a half dozen razor-thin points of night driving hard into the spellcaster and knocking her for a loop - but not knocking her out of the spell.

With the one bad guy being rather effectively pinned down, Jon's got a chance to do some serious damage. She crouches down to pick up a piece of rebar from the exploded wall. "Tiger steps up to the tee." She hauls back and whacks the guy hard with the rebar. She spins around and whacks him again for good measure. If the guy was standing up, he'd be reeling.

Hunter groans, obviously clinging to consciousness with the force of the collective blows. There is a faint ripple and expansion of the shadow underneath him; his right hand phases out, but he's too unsteady to manage more.

Antigone can't help hit a villain when he's down. And Hunter's down, but he's not out. The mystic shakes her head, pushing through the static left by Kerry's shadow shards. Antigone grips harder with her mind, making sure Hunter stays in place. No reason not reveal herself now, and sos he takes a step forward and her hand comes up. A bright blue bolt lances out and smashes into Hunter.

While fighting a woman might be a bit of an issue for Jack, he has no problem with taking the fight to Hunter again, even if the villain is on the ropes. He has a weapon, and hitting Hunter with it last time didn't cause any pain, so Jack smacks him again with the hot-dog cart. The good news is that Jack knocks Hunter out with it. The bad news is that the cart ruptures. So the poor hot dog vendor has had something happen his insurance probably doesn't cover. Oh, and Hunter is now covered with lukewarm 'hot dog water.'

"Shit." Kerry freezes, staring down at the scene, dark eyes flickering with distress. "I'll remember you," she says softly. "All of you." She whirls on her heel and takes off at a run, disappearing through the back wall. From there - who knows? Hundreds of little rooms and no way to tell which direction she's gone.

"Hmm," Jack, as he gently puts the…steel bar that is all that's left intact of the hot dog cart that he's holding down, watching Kerry take her leave. "All right," he syas. "We'll see her again, but Glacier needs medical attention, and we need to get out of here before people start asking too many questions."

The crowd continues to gawk, only now there are camera phones, nudging and whispers. The sound of sirens wails closer … and from where Glacier has been left, there's a ten-foot ice slick now.

Antigone steps up to Jack and Jon as they gather after Hunter goes down and Kerry runs away. "Fortunate we were here," she says. "Jon, we should get you to the infirmary. Jack, I trust you are uninjured."

Young vigilantes averted an attempted murder in downtown Cove City Friday afternoon. The city bustle was interrupted when a section of the Marriott's wall shattered under an icebolt and a neohuman tumbled to the pavement, pursued by shadow-controlling shapeshifters: the individual known only as Hunter, and the woman until recently posing as pop diva Annabelle Kerry - addressed by her companion solely as Kerry.

Their intended victim, in civilian clothing at the time, was recognized on scene as British hero Glacier. Before he could defend himself, Hunter neutralized his powers and Kerry dropped him with a powerful sequence of blasts - bringing heroes Jackhammer, Felis and an unidentified sorceress to the fore.

Felis swept the visiting hero to safety, then assisted in the pitched battle. The sorceress succeeded in pinning Hunter with magic - and held it despite Kerry's attempted intervention. Jackhammer finally felled the shadowy bruiser, though Kerry vanished unharmed into the depths of the hotel.

Glacier has been identified as MI-5 agent Quentin Walker, on holiday in the area. MI-5 admits to having full knowledge of Walker's abilities. He was sanctioned to operate as a vigilante separately from his professional duties. However, his immediate superiors claim that his dual identity was a closed secret, known to only a handful. How it leaked to the shadow-manipulators is unknown.

When questioned as to how he ended up alone with the villains, Walker admitted, "Listen, I've been divorced for almost a year now, Ms. Kerry had made herself very charming and attractive, and I wasn't expecting any trouble on this side of the pond. I almost didn't notice his entrance until it was too late."

After a pause, he added, "Clearly, this is the universe's way of telling me I should become a monk."

He went on to offer his sincere thanks to his rescuers. "I'll confess, I underestimated then when I first saw them, but I don't think I'd be here if they hadn't been."

As for Hunter, British authorities have already filed an extradition request - not on the basis of the present attack, but evidence accrued over the past several months and finally attached to a face and name.

"Not fair," complained CCPD detective Lance Elliot. "I don't get a crack at him? Just one measelly little hour with thumbscrews and a … you do know I'm joking, right?"